


Whirl Gets de-Empurata’d

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Sticky, coping with trauma through the power of smut, gleeful violence?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:11:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7225555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Descriptive title is descriptive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whirl Gets de-Empurata’d

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Whirl/Blurr  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky, non-consensual body modification,  
>  **Notes:** So I had, like, a thought. We know that Whirl doesn’t WANT his empurata reversed. That is canon. This begs the question: How would Whirl react to having the procedure reversed without his consent? *dark muse cackles* “The best parts are when they cry!” echo through my head. Muahahahahha! --- Now, before I scare anyone off here, he's not _maliciously_ de-empurata'd, and the medical staff that does it does not know about his wishes. Truly, it was done with best intents and in honor of 'and do no harm'. That doesn't mean slag to poor Whirl though. This ended up so full of smut… I just… Well, I'm not sorry, but I wasn't planning that. Oh well. LOL.

Command had argued about coming here. Rodimus wanted to. It was time for heroics! Derring-do! Whirl could get behind that, so he had shouted agreement. Magnus questioned his presence on the bridge, then cited about a dozen random laws for _not_ answering a distress call from an unknown people on an unknown planet. Megatron stood there, arms crossed, pouty scowl on his face and poo-pooed the notion of bothering with organics. Their mission was more important. Blah, blah, blah.

"But they're not organics," Blaster said, then continued into the surprised silence, "They're apparently some Cybertronian colony that splintered off ages ago."

Well that just changed everyone's tune. Except for Whirl and Rodimus'- they'd wanted to go from the get-go. But Megatron was suddenly striding forward, ordering the helm to set a course. Magnus started quoting all the bylaws that _required_ they help.

Rodimus flashed a grin and thumbs-up at Whirl.

"I'll gear up," Whirl said and strode off the bridge, amusement at Rodimus' suddenly worried expression humming in his field. Mech was a hoot to wind up. 'Overkill totally isn't heroic and badaft, Whirl!'

Yeah right. Overkill was underrated by pretty much everyone without the bolts to finish the job decisively. So gear up Whirl had.

That brought them to the present, locked in battle with organics that went _pop_ when a plasma bolt went through them. Messy as all slag, but Whirl didn't have much sympathy for the goo sacks. The little colony of once-Cybertronians was a peaceful cluster of pretty buildings populated by a few thousand mechs that were into art and science and music- from what was in the briefing.

See? Whirl listened.

The point being, they'd attacked thinking they'd found the perfect machines to enslave, and had the _Lost Light_ not been so close, they'd probably have succeeded. Who built _no_ weapons at all? Not even just in case?

Of course that left the gooey freaks flailing when the first team arrived via Rod Pod and started playing Pop Goes the Gooey Things. They scattered, tried to regroup, failed, and died in droves.

Whirl could admit to himself that all that had maybe nudged him toward being just a _tiny_ little bit overconfident and under-vigilant. That explosion was clearly of the 'last ditch' variety, and _damn_ having one's fuel on fire hurt like slag.

"Well, this might be it," Whirl tried to send over his comms. He wasn't sure they were working, but hey! Blaze of glory! He fought against the flat spin freefall and aimed himself at a cluster of invaders rushing to reload that big boomer of theirs -because he wasn't going out alone- then braced for impact.

There was a last flare of fire- blazing pink from energon. The gooey things screamed a weird burbling scream as they popped. Then it all winked out into the sweetest, most painless bit of blackness Whirl had ever known.

~ | ~

Waking was awesome because of all the intimate, flirtatious kisses with Death, Whirl had never been so sure he was about to be dragged down into that eternal embrace before. He was such a tease. Poor Death. One day, sweetspark, Whirl thought.

Of course the whole waking thing got decidedly less awesome as he struggled to get his optic online and open. Static dominated his vision, and what wasn't fuzzed was bleary. Someone's hands were _right_ in front of his optic. That was rude.

"The frag?" Whirl demanded- or tried. It came out sounding more like 'duh fwahg'. At least when he tried to reach up to shove the hands away, they moved. Whirl reset his visual feed, blinked a few times, then tipped his helm to look for the mech attached to those dark hands. They were still right there close to his helm, still a bit bleary, but they were totally facing the wrong direction to be attached to someone in front of him. No one was… snuggling him..?

Whirl twisted his head to look behind himself just to be sure, but nope. He garbled out another questioning curse and moved to sit up. Right about then, when one of the hands pushed down on the berth where his pincer _should have been_ , it clicked for Whirl that he was seeing a _hand_ attached to _him_.

That was _not_ right!

An icy dread squeezed in around Whirl's spark and spread out through his lines until his forehelm tingled and two spots below his optic prickled with heat- the input on that was… off as well, but he had bigger concerns. He passed on sitting up and went for holding the hands up to get a better look at them. His respiration was loud as it rasped in and out of his vents, but there was no denying it- he had _hands_. Hands which moved toward his head and almost touched before he stopped himself.

Whirl _really_ didn't want to touch anything with them, least of all his helm. Fear wound around his spark, closed a fist around his throat, and Whirl just stared, waiting for the image to change. If he didn't touch, then it could just stay a crazy, unrealized nightmare a bit longer.

A door hissed open, and Whirl's gaze shot toward it.

"Welcome back!" a black and silver mech greeted. He had red medic's bars on his shoulders and a bright smile on his cheerful face.

Whirl held the hands out toward him. "Fix this," he demanded- or tried to. Fragging vocalizer was _not_ doing sounds the way it was supposed to.

"Yes, we did!" the medic replied with an impossibly brighter smile as he picked up a datapad from the end of Whirl's berth. Fragger completely misunderstood, but with as hard as talking was, Whirl wasn't sure that was the medic being a jerk, or if he was just making his best guess. "Luckily," the medic added, stepping up by Whirl's head and reaching above him to a shelf, "we found this image cube of what you looked like before exploding."

Vents screeched to a halt, and Whirl felt the universe rock hard to one side before whipping out from under him. He was falling, though the berth didn't seem to be budging.

The image cube was quickly set aside with the datapad, and the medic leaned in to scan Whirl. "Huh. Ok, just shock. Must be pretty surprising to wake up after that, but you're all repaired, so just go ahead and vent for me," he said, voice smoothing out into what was probably supposed to be a comforting, gentle tone. Whirl just wanted to scream.

Whirl's respiration restarted with a clank as overheat warnings popped up in his HUD, and he gasped and panted.

"There you go," the medic smiled again. "Just keep venting, or you'll overheat, and in truth, you're a new frame now. You were barely recognizable as a mech when they found you. I'll spare you the rather gruesome details, and only say that, luckily, your spark was intact. Your processor casing was thick and reinforced." He cracked a grin at Whirl. "I'm sure there's a joke in there for your friends, but truly, you were very lucky." He pointed a finger toward the now offline image cube. "And lucky again that your subspace survived enough for us to find that and see what you once looked like.

"Old image," Whirl managed to rasp.

The medic nodded and smiled. "I know. And we have nothing like that thick armor plate you had installed before. We did our best to reconstruct your frame and face." His smile widened as he patted the hands attached to Whirl. "Your hands."

Whirl's spark felt like it was going to gutter. Or maybe like he wanted to test out his new fists on this glitch's smiling stupid face.

But the medic stood and stepped back. "You are as healed as we can get you here, which is to say you're in fine shape and can leave when you feel steady on your feet." That infernal smile faded off for the first time since the mech had walked in the door. "After the attacks ended and the invaders left it was… Well, it was all such a disaster. We still have no communications so I'm afraid your people aren't aware of your status. It's been chaos, and I've asked multiple times if our leaders have told your leaders, but to the best of my knowledge that hasn't happened yet. For that I apologize, but I don't want you to think none of your friends came for you. It is entirely our fault they haven't."

Whirl blinked then struggled to sit up, his frame too light and _different_ , off balance. He hadn't even thought about his shipmates.

"Reinforcements have arrived from Cybertron too," the medic continued, one hand out as though to help, but once he saw Whirl wouldn't fall over, he drew it back. "Oh!" He turned back and reached into a cabinet and came out with a glass and sealed decanter of energon. "Here you go," he added as he poured the glass full. "Your reserves are topped off, but the ship is quite a ways outside the ruins."

Whirl took the glass and stared at it, unsure what to do. He no longer had an access panel to dump the fuel in directly, which left… drinking it? He focused on speaking and asked, "Tha's it?"

The medic was an idiot. He smiled and nodded. "Yes. You're all set. I know that there's no rush. There is supposed to be a celebration and honoring ceremony at some point, so you won't get left behind. However, it's busy and everything has been scattered so badly around here." The smile disappeared again. "So many were killed in the first strike. We don't have weapons, but… mechs fought back, of course. The invaders did not take kindly to our resistance." He shivered, optics falling to the side where he spotted the datapad and display and picked them up. "Here. Your images, and this datapad is for your ship's medic. It fully details all treatments given to you so your personal records can be updated. I-" He broke off, optics spiraling wide. "Oh! Emergency call. I must go." The datapad and cube were set on the berth beside Whirl. "Drink that, then you're free to go," the medic said even as he hurried to the door. "And don't transform yet! You'll stress your frame far too much." Then he was gone, and the door hissed shut behind him.

Whirl stared for a moment, then looked down at the image cube. It'd come on when the medic dropped it on the berth, and Whirl's own old face smiled proudly back at him, dark hands holding out his first completed chrono.

With a shriek, Whirl flung the glass of energon to smash against the door, then twisted over to bury his _face_ in the bolster and scream until his vocalizer glitched out. That bit of venting handled, Whirl then shoved himself back up and stumbled to his feet. With the image cube in one hand, datapad in the other, he went in search of Ratchet.

If it was done, it could be undone.

~ | ~

Walking was _weird_. Whirl's legs weren't in the image capture, so the medics had rebuilt him with the standard legs and feet most mechs had. He didn't dare transform -warning from the cheerful medic or not- lest he completely bungle it and end up back with the too-happy glitch. He needed Ratchet. He needed all the scans, then he needed his body put back the way it was _supposed_ to be, pincers, single optic, and all.

Whirl kept finding himself staring at the hands as he wobbled along the crumbled city streets. His depth perception was off. Or… better? It was hard to process though, and his shorter legs put him closer to the ground. Whirl tripped over debris he wasn't watching for while staring at the hands again, and caught himself against a broken wall. A hiss of surprised pain escaped him as the palm of one hand was scraped along a jagged edge. Whirl snorted at how stupidly delicate the hand was and continued on.

At least the _Lost Light_ was easy to see. Frag Whirl sideways if he could estimate how far of a walk he had, but he could see where he needed to go instead of having to track someone down and ask. Now and then Whirl would hear voices or sounds echo out of the ruins. He was having a hard time parsing any of it, feeling a bit dazed still, but it sounded like mechs working to clean up. That made sense at least. It'd been… days? A week? Had the medic said how long Whirl had been out of commission? He couldn't remember. It was probably on that datapad, though Whirl could just find out once he reached the ship.

Whirl trudged along, squinting toward the _Lost Light_ and glancing back to the city to see if he could figure out how far he'd come when he heard a shout.

"Hey! You need help, mech?"

Whirl turned and squinted some more, a blue smudge resolving into a familiar shape as his optics focused. He stopped walking and felt something that might have been relief tingle through him. "Blurr!" Whirl lifted an arm to wave and snickered at the way Blurr's optics shot wide.

With a ribbon of blue still smeared across Whirl's vision, Blurr was suddenly _right_ in front of him and staring up with open shock on his face.

 _At least I'm still taller than Zippy,_ Whirl thought.

Blurr blinked, shook his helm, then said, "Say something."

"Something," Whirl replied, then laughed as Blurr stumbled back as if struck.

"Frag me running! Whirl?!" Blurr stepped back in closer, peering up at Whirl's face in disbelief and maybe even a little horror. That made Whirl feel a bit better. "What the frag happened?"

"I blew up." Whirl gestured behind him toward the city. "Docs fixed me, but they fixed me ta the specs of an old image capture I forgot I had." Ok, maybe not forgot he had, but certainly not one he had looked at in a _really_ damn long time.

"But…" Blurr shook his helm. "So, they just reframed you and kicked you out to find your way alone fragging _megamiles_ to your ship?" Blue optics narrowed and one little finger poked toward Whirl's face. "This wasn't you being all tough mech and refusing transportation, was it?"

"They didn't offer. Medic told me not ta transform, handed me this," Whirl offered Blurr the datapad, "and told me I could find the _Lost Light_ outside the city." At least talking was getting easier. He probably just needed the practice. Fragging tongues.

Blurr thumbed on the datapad, reading it like he had a clue. Maybe he did. Whirl had never managed to pin the Racer's actual intelligence down beyond 'smarter than he lets on', which Whirl totally respected.

"He did say they didn't have any kind'a comms," Whirl added. Much as that medic deserved a good punch in the face, he hadn't seemed _mean_. Just kind of stupid and oblivious.

"Hn." Blurr passed the datapad back, proving he got some of it at least with his next words. "Ratchet's going to need that. And no, no transforming for you. You're a slagging new frame now."

Whirl tucked the datapad away and lurched back into motion. Blurr tucked himself in against his side, one arm around Whirl's waist and acted the part of a living crutch. It was that familiar touch and field lacing with his own that made Whirl wonder, "New frame, huh? Think they left the seals on my new junk?"

Blurr laughed, his arm tightening on Whirl's waist as they ambled along. "We can check that out after Ratchet clears you for 'facing."

Whirl snickered, then again at the memories. Blurr had always been a fun ride, and there were plenty of post-mission nights back when they were both Wreckers that had been filled with vigorous clanging. Blurr had never been afraid of hurting Whirl, or being hurt by him. He'd never shrunk back from anything. He 'faced like he needed it to live and threw all of himself into whoever it was he was with. Whirl liked that because that's how he did it. Why hold back? But partners weren't easy to find when a mech looked like a freak. It had made Blurr's desire, lust, and even friendship seem more honest.

They had been friends, Whirl figured. At least in as much as Whirl knew he was capable of being a friend. Blurr had trusted him, and Whirl had done what he figured was right by the Racer. He sure as slag had never mentioned to anyone how sometimes it wasn't just clanging after a mission. Sometimes Blurr needed someone to burrow into while he sobbed his bolts out. Mech didn't like killing. Honestly, Blurr was one of those weirdos without a mean circuit in his whole frame. He was oblivious and dense sometimes, cruel by accident. He could snark with the best of them, but he didn't hate. He wasn't nasty on purpose, and if told he was being a fragger would actually apologize and quit it. He wasn't like Whirl, and Whirl hoped that after the Racer had left the Wreckers that he'd found someone else to curl up with when he cried. He needed someone for that because the thought of Blurr all alone and crying was a pathetic and sad image that made Whirl feel… things.

"Whirl?" Blurr asked, voice soft and optics all clear-blue earnest.

"What?"

"You're being quiet. It's creepy."

Whirl laughed, squeezing Blurr in tighter with the arm he'd slung around the Racer's shoulder. It made them both stumble drunkenly to the side before they caught their balance, and Blurr snickered too. "Processors are spinnin'. Can't see right. Can't walk right. Freakin' hand hurts."

"The hands hurt?" Blurr asked, free hand of his own reaching up to catch Whirl's wrist. "Slag me. What happened?"

"Stupid legs and feet," Whirl grumbled and tugged his wrist free. "Delicate little hand got a stupid scratch when I grabbed what used ta be a wall ta keep from fallin'."

"The other too?"

"Nah. Just that one." Whirl curled the fingers in, not wanting the hands touched. They were weird. "Ratchet can fix me up, but slag me already. How much farther?" He leaned his head forward and squinted at the ship. It seemed bigger.

"Another megamile and a half," Blurr replied. "We'll get there, though I still can't believe they didn't even offer a transport. Primus, what unfeeling glitches."

"I ain't weak."

Blurr snorted. "I never said you were. It's simple courtesy though. They reframe you all wrong, then just push you out the door? After everything you and the crew did for them? That's fragged, Whirl."

'All wrong'. Primus bless the Racer's swift little legs. He _got_ it. He _got_ Whirl. Most mechs didn't. Rung kind of did, and he was actually helpful, but he didn't _really_ understand. "Ratchet can fix me," Whirl said with a firm nod. "And yeah. Rude, but I think it's that clueless kinda rude like you do sometimes. Not like they were being mean on purpose."

Blurr nodded, but he still didn't look too happy. He'd come up in high society though, and they all placed value on fancy manners. Blurr hadn't ever quite let that go. "So how was the battle before you blew up?" he asked after a dozen or so more steps in their weird silence.

"Pretty fun," Whirl replied. "They popped. It was so gross, you'd have freaked out. They were like… angry goo-filled balloons."

Blurr's nose wrinkled up as he laughed. "Ew! Maybe I am glad I missed the battle."

"What are you doin' here anyways?"

"I was invited along once the space bridge found the right coordinates," Blurr replied. "Cybertron's ridiculous. Those in power are flailing around trying to grab up the loyalty and support of the colonies we keep finding, and no one's actually doing any good for Cybertron."

"New mechs mean new business for the bar though, yeah?"

"Pff! If it'd stop getting blown up!" Blurr huffed and growled a little. "Right now, there is no bar. That's why I agreed to come and play message runner. I was on my way back to Starscream's temporary little base when I saw you."

"Ya got work ta do?" Whirl asked. "Cuz I got this, ya know?"

Blurr flapped his free hand and shook his helm. "No, I was delivering a few supplies. There's nothing I need to report, and slag Starscream and the rest anyway."

Whirl grinned, his face pulling funny as he did. "Should come adventurin' with us." He swept an arm up at the _Lost Light_. "Never a dull moment. Rodi makes sure of that."

Blurr bit the corner of his lip like he was really thinking about it, and Whirl's spark tripped in surprise. "That might actually be good. I wanted peace and to just relax and run my bar, but instead I keep getting dragged back into the politics and Pitslag."

"Wow. Really?" Whirl asked, stunned. Blurr had been _against_ Rodimus and Drift's 'crazy mission' from the get-go. He wanted peace on Cybertron and his little slice of it. How fragged was Cybertron that he was considering leaving it?

Pretty Racer face turned up toward Whirl's with a half-pout. "You didn't mean the invitation?"

"Yeah. Pits yeah, I did. I like havin' ya around, Zippy." Whirl's face pulled with a smile again, and he squeezed Blurr's shoulders, careful not to knock them off balance this time. "Just didn't think ya'd actually consider it."

"Things are bad." Blurr shook his helm. "Pits, I don't even have to go back to Cybertron. Everything I had was destroyed. Nothing to pack up."

"You kept the good stuff in your subspace, yeah?" Whirl asked, knowing just what bits of precious the Racer had saved from before the war started. Blurr had shown him his trophies and the old image captures from his heyday.

But Blurr shook his helm. "I had a home." He peeked up at Whirl, but then quickly looked away. Not quickly enough that Whirl missed the sheen in those blue optics though. "Thought it was finally safe to put the important things out. Make it truly home."

"Frag me, Zip."

Blurr shrugged, then cracked a grin at Whirl. "Least I've still got my frame."

Whirl blinked then threw his helm back and cackled, nearly sending them both toppling to the ground. Blurr grabbed him and threw his weight the opposite direction -what there was for weight in that light racing frame- and miraculously kept them both on their feet.

"Primus," Blurr said with a chuckle as he got them moving forward again.

"Can't blame me for laughin' when you're bein' funny." Whirl tightened his grip on Blurr, not bothering to ignore the grateful tingle around his spark. Blurr _got_ him. Who the frag else would make a joke like that? No, they'd dance around the subject, pretend everything was fine, treat him _gently_! Urgh! Not make totally off-color jokes. Pits no, they'd pretend the predacon wasn't in the room, hulking in the corner.

"I can blame you for trying to crush me on the ground though," Blurr replied, still snickering. "Come on. Sooner we get to the ship, the sooner we can get you fixed."

Whirl nodded and let Blurr tow him along. He was getting damn tired of this walking slag, but there was nothing for it. What? Lie down in the dirt and recharge out in the open? Not frelling likely. Plus then Blurr would worry, and he got all fussy when worried. Whirl wouldn't be able to rest anyway with that flapping around him. Better to just push on and get to the _Lost Light_. Which they managed after another half hour.

Primus, Whirl was slow. His vents were going full-bore, and Blurr's were running faster too, that light plating of his radiating more warmth than usual.

Alas, the medbay was not to be. All medical staff -and most importantly Ratchet- were all in the slagging city trying to help the wounded. Blurr grabbed some supplies and did a patch job on the hand. It wasn't all that bad once cleaned up. Still. No Ratchet meant no _real_ fixes.

"Frag me already," Whirl grumbled.

"Well, you need rest," Blurr said, helm swiveling around as he tried to figure out where they were. He'd only been on the ship once before, so Whirl lifted a too-heavy arm to point their way.

"Lift around the corner."

It felt like it took forever to get to the lift, then down the halls to Whirl's quarters. He was glad they didn't see anyone else though. Blurr got it. Someone else… probably no one else would, and Whirl was too slagged to want to talk to any of them or deal with their nonsense just then.

"Gonna hang out?" Whirl invited as he finally collapsed onto his berth. It felt bigger.

"Like I'd leave you now?" Blurr snorted and climbed onto the berth to sprawl out on his back next to Whirl. "You'd get into trouble. I may as well stick around and get into it with you."

Whirl chuckled and squirmed up to his bolsters, trying to get comfortable despite the strut-deep ache. He'd been in pain before.

"What's with all the clocks?" Blurr asked, one arm tucked up under his helm, the other resting over his middle.

Whirl glanced up, then back at his hands, and suddenly the world was wrenched out from under him. His vocalizer made a really strange sound, vents seizing before another of those weird… coughs.

"Oh Primus, Whirl," Blurr gasped, rolling toward him.

It happened again, and again as the Racer wound his arms around Whirl's shoulders and held tight. It took the feeling of hot liquid rolling from his optic over the bridge of his nose and along the opposite cheek for Whirl to clue in that he was crying. That was nuts, but for some reason, he couldn't get it to stop.

Oh well, Blurr owed him anyways.

"We'll get it fixed," the Racer crooned. "Soon as Ratchet's back, we'll go get him to fix you."

Whirl nodded, but his damn vents wouldn't quit hitching, and the stupidest noises kept coming out of his vocalizer. Blurr always had sounded so cute and sad when he cried what with the little sniffles and hiccups. It figured that Whirl would just sound like a transport crash happening over and over.

~ | ~

Apparently, it would be _days_ before the medics were due back on the _Lost Light_ , and that left Whirl to deal with the rest of the crew hanging about while still in the new, weird body. Blurr stayed. He informed Rodimus and Starscream the very next morning. Rodimus was ecstatic and blew right past any rule babbling from Magnus. He even forgot to comment on Whirl looking different after only a confused blink. Megatron agreed to Blurr staying with a smirk at the screen where Starscream continued to whine and complain about losing a 'friend' to space adventuring. Blurr had openly snorted at that, hooked Whirl's arm and headed out of the comms center.

"I need a drink," had been followed by Whirl leading them to Swerve's where everyone proceeded to ooo and ahh over Whirl's new look while the two waited for their lunch.

"Shut up," Whirl snapped at Bluestreak. Again. "Ain't keepin' it. It's temporary." How many times did he have to say it? And what the frag was taking Swerve so long to mix a couple slagging drinks?

"But you're so _cute_!" Skids shouted to loud agreement.

Calling Whirl cute was something only Blurr was allowed to do, and only because he always had. Usually in reference to the guns on Whirl's chest, and mostly to get a rise out of him, but sometimes he meant Whirl's valve or spike. That was ok too. _Others_ calling Whirl cute and meaning his face were throwing around fightin' words whether they knew it or not.

Blurr's hand caught the elbow Whirl threw, stopping the blow just short of connecting with Swerve's face as he _finally_ showed up. "Come on, Whirl. We'll be taking these to go," the Racer added to Swerve as he stood up. Two glasses of mixed midgrade were plucked from the tray. Whirl had wanted engex, but Blurr vetoed that. High-handed slagger. "Move it, mechs. He's a damn new frame, so I'm taking him home before he dents himself beating you all to slag."

"Frag _off_!" Whirl snapped, but he rose and followed Blurr because the Racer was right. Damnit, he was already getting tired again actually. And damn hungry too. The walk back the day before had drained him, and his self-repair was in high gear to integrate everything still. And if that wasn't enough, he had woke up still feeling exhausted from that little… emotional release of his. All that coupled with the fact that Blurr was actually saving Whirl from having to figure out how to _drink_ for the first time in public and… Yeah. Good Racer was good.

Not that Whirl wouldn't complain. "This sucks slag," Whirl grumbled as the lift doors closed them off from the rest of the ship.

"They'll get over it."

"Yeah, right about the time I get fixed!" Whirl exclaimed, arms flying up only to drop heavily and clang against his sides. "Then it'll be back to 'Oh my Primus, Whirl, why didn't you keep that cute face?' And, 'But you were so cuuuuute!' Urgh!"

Blurr smirked. "You _are_ cute." He reached up, one finger straightening from the glass of energon to poke Whirl on the nose. "Adorable, really."

"Fuck you, Zippy."

"If you think you can do a decent job of it," Blurr shot back, then stepped out of the lift as the doors opened, hips swinging just so as he led the way toward Whirl's -now his too- quarters.

Whirl considered it. He wasn't medically cleared, but a good hard frag would be nice. Plus he was curious about maybe having seals again. Those were more trouble than they were worth, but Blurr would likely make it fun. Whirl reached around Blurr once they got to the door and poked in the code since the Racer didn't know it yet. He'd see to that later.

Blurr strode in first, then held out a glass to Whirl as the door shut and locked behind them. "Rodi keeps pinging me to go 'hang out'," he announced.

Whirl fiddled with the glass as he sat on the bottom edge of his berth. "Ain't gotta stay here with me."

Blurr drained his glass and set it on the small work table Whirl had then flopped out on the berth. "He can wait. There's only so much of _that_ I can take, and I think I've met the day's quota."

"Rodi's ok."

"I know," Blurr replied, voice quiet in a weird sort of way that drew Whirl's attention. "I'm just a bit burnt out. You're easier to be around."

Whirl snorted a laugh. "Me? Think you're glitchin' there, Zip."

Blurr peeped open an optic and grinned down at Whirl. "Probably. Now drink your energon and get up here. We'll see about those seals."

"Might not have any," Whirl replied, gaze shifting to the energon. He was hungry. Mostly because he hadn't refueled since before waking in the med center, but lifting the glass to his mouth was… difficult.

"Drink it already, Whirl," Blurr said, voice firm. "Stalling isn't going to change it."

Whirl tried out a rude gesture with the free hand and lifted the cube to his mouth with the other. The rim of the glass bumped his lips, and that was _weird_. He had to bring the other hand up to help steady the glass, and then carefully tipped it up until some energon trickled into his mouth. Swallowing was weird too, but _oh Primus_! The taste! He'd forgotten what _tasting_ was!

Blurr snickered. "Go easy." The advice fell on deaf audials, but Whirl managed to drink the whole glass without letting any energon get sucked into his vents instead of into his tanks. "That was hilarious," Blurr said as Whirl leaned down to put the glass on the floor. Frag standing.

"Shut it." Whirl crawled up the berth to get comfortable, settling on his side close to Blurr with his helm on the bolster.

"I'm going to buy you all the treats. We'll make the most of you being able to taste stuff until Ratchet can fix you." Blurr grinned and rolled to his side to face Whirl, one hand reaching to trace an armor gap. "Want to recharge? You look tired."

Whirl shook his helm. Tired? Definitely. Did he want to recharge when Blurr so clearly didn't? Pits no, though he knew the Racer would let him. "Been a while. You've probably forgotten all I taught you."

"New frame," Blurr said. "I'd have to find all the new spots anyways." He gave a wink and grinned. "Half the fun right there. More if you've got seals." A slim blue finger tapped Whirl's thigh. "Open up and let me see."

Whirl rolled to his back, spread his legs, and triggered his array cover to retract. "Never have gotten why mechs are so into seals. They're pointless and hurt to rip off."

Blurr situated himself between Whirl's legs with a tsk. "Well, if you just _rip_ them off, of course it hurts and isn't any fun." He flashed a grin up at Whirl. "Looks like I get to show you what fun seals can be."

A soft stroke along the surface of Whirl's array was enough to rocket heat through him, and he moaned and let his knees fall open even more. "Stupid scraps of silicon."

"You don't understand," Blurr purred as he leaned over Whirl, braced up on one hand. Whirl's chest plating wasn't even close to jutting out as far as it had before, and the Racer hovered over him without touching- except for that one finger that traced the edges of Whirl's valve seal. "Your systems aren't calibrated at all." Blurr's voice had gone all soft and low. Mech was _good_ at hitting that seductive tone just right. His voice wasn't deep enough to rumble, but it was smooth. It caressed Whirl's audials and poured down the back of his neck all warm and full of promises as he leaned down closer. "I'm going to overload you until you pass out," the Racer murmured. "I'm going to frag you straight through until you wake up again, overload you one more time, then~" His smile went absolutely _predatory_ , and Whirl shivered. "Then we'll work on removing your spike seal."

Then Blurr did the stupidest thing ever. He closed the distance, and warm, soft lips pressed to Whirl's before parting to allow the Racer's tongue out. He licked lightly along Whirl's lower lip, and before Whirl knew it, he'd let his mouth open. Blurr swept in, demanding, sweet, and too damn good for Whirl's long-frayed sanity. He was going to end up liking this slag, missing it when it was over.

Blurr knocked those thoughts right out of Whirl's head as he drew back, Whirl's lower lip caught between his teeth so it slid away with a slow, spark-tingling scrape. Whirl had no chance to recover as slim, experienced fingers delved between armor plates and his mouth was reclaimed. He moaned. He shivered. His body bucked up against Blurr's as the Racer worked both hands into spots Whirl really hadn't known he had. Then again, his whole damn frame felt like a 'spot' just then, and he could only writhe and twist, push his tongue against Blurr's, and make hungry little sounds.

"Go on," Blurr purred against Whirl's lips. "You know how to overload even if it is a different body. Stop holding back." He tucked his face down against Whirl's throat and nipped the cables, fingers strumming over fresh wiring.

Whirl hadn't thought he was holding back, but Blurr's words were enough. Or maybe it was that last stinging little bite to his main energon conduit? Regardless, Whirl's body convulsed, and he gasped a sharp inhalation as the charge crested and zip-zapped across his frame. Touch to overload wasn't something Whirl had experienced in an age, but he doubted that was why it seemed so damn intense. Blurr was right in saying that his systems weren't calibrated at all.

And he _really_ needed more.

"Blurr," Whirl groaned, foregoing the nickname only he ever managed to get away with in favor of being somewhat serious. "Think I need fragged good and hard."

"I'll get to that," Blurr said, mouth sliding from Whirl's neck to his chest. Those smooth fingers found their way into new gaps and sent the world spinning a bit.

"Get to it now."

Blurr, the fragger, only chuckled in a way that vibrated against Whirl's plating and didn't hurry up at all.

"Blurr."

"It'll hurt," Blurr replied then scraped his teeth over the outer edge of Whirl's hip. "My way's so much better."

Whirl shivered at the purr, hips twisting up and toward Blurr's mouth. Blasted Racer only laughed again as he worked his way down one of Whirl's legs. "Oh frag!"

"Good spot?" Blurr asked and licked into Whirl's knee joint again.

"They're all good. Fragger!"

Blurr just laughed again and started his way back up Whirl's inner thigh. Whirl cursed, then again as the Racer's tongue _finally_ swept over his array. There was a press of slick contact over the node cluster between valve and spike housing, a wiggle of Blurr's tongue, and Whirl spasmed into another overload before he could brace for it.

"Mmm… Just like that," the Racer purred then circled his tongue around the edges of Whirl's valve seal.

"Fragger," Whirl gasped again, vents panting as he shivered in hard aftershocks.

"You like it," Blurr said, his attention now concentrated on the edge of the seal. Whirl squirmed until blue hands pushed under his thighs to grip his hips and hold him in place. A moment later and the Racer moaned as he pushed his mouth even tighter over Whirl's valve.

Pleasure shocked through Whirl, making his back bow and a gasping cry escape his vocalizer. Blurr moaned again, then he was rising up over Whirl, optics _cobalt_ as he reclaimed Whirl's mouth, tongue thrusting in. Whirl tasted something sweet with a tangy edge to it. In fact, it tasted the way lubricant smelled. Had Blurr gone through his seal already?

The Racer pulled back with a last slow sucking kiss to Whirl's upper lip and purred, high performance fans humming softly as they blew out heat. "Seals were meant to be removed by mouth."

Whirl blinked at that, tingling, valve feeling way too empty, and a hot and ready partner hanging over him. "Glad you're enjoyin' it too. Now frag me."

Blurr chuckled and shook his helm, but he continued to speak like Whirl hadn't said anything. "Transfluid doesn't help. Valve lubricant obviously does nothing or the seal would just slide right off at first arousal, but oral lubricant…" He chuckled again, the tone a bit darker. "Oral lubricant melts the adhesions right off." Then he was kissing a line right down Whirl's abdomen, more eager himself to get back between Whirl's thighs this time. "Have to finish the job before I 'face you though."

Whirl's vents hitched as a firm pressure edged just into his valve. He shivered even as he pushed himself up on his elbows to look. Blurr, the slagger, rested his helm on Whirl's inner thigh and smirked up at him, thumb rocking back and forth in short strokes that tugged the bottom rim of Whirl's valve down. It shot sensation straight across Whirl's sensornet, dragged out a low moan, and left him panting.

"So damn sensitive," Blurr murmured, then he leaned his face back in, tongue pushing in past his thumb and lighting Whirl's body on fire. He hummed and moaned, then wrapped his arms back around Whirl's thighs to pull him in tight. Blurr's nose rubbed over the anterior node cluster as his tongue thrust in and out, wrecking Whirl's processors as the Racer fragging well _devoured_ his array.

Hips twisting and winding as he tried to push himself harder against Blurr's mouth, Whirl arched into another overload, valve clenching and empty, and it _wasn't enough_! He whined as Blurr licked him through it, one hand pulling back between Whirl's thighs before the Racer pushed himself up to grin at Whirl. The lower half of his face was smeared with lubricant, but the mech looked proud as he held up a thin, vaguely opaque disc of silvery-white silicon.

"Your valve seal," Blurr said smug, then offered it to Whirl, who could only stare at it. "And not a hint of pain."

"Depends how ya define pain, cuz I got this ache that ain't been seen to yet," Whirl replied, voice rasping with static, vents heaving to cool his too-hot frame. He shifted his gaze from the seal to Blurr's face, then gave a pointed look toward his array.

Blurr laugh and pushed himself up to lean off to the side. The scrap of silicon was set on the berthside table, then the Racer knelt back between Whirl's sprawled legs. "You should know to trust me by now, Whirl. Have I ever left you unsatisfied?"

Whirl was tempted to say yes just to be spiteful, but they both knew that was a lie. Blurr was a smug-aft glitch, but he didn't leave a mech wanting. "Wish ya'd get to the satisfyin' already." It was petulant grumbling, and Blurr snickered in victory.

"I know what you need." Blurr looked down at Whirl's array, one fingertip gliding over the slick surface.

"Cuz I been sayin' it!"

Blurr smirked, wicked delight etched on his face. The blasted glitch. "It's brand new, Whirl. We need to be gentle with it."

The 'it' in question clenched and rippled hard, stealing Whirl's breath as Blurr eased a single finger inside. Whirl gasped, back arching, knees spreading even wider as he tried to push down and take that finger deeper. It was _almost_ what he needed.

"So soft, Whirl," Blurr crooned, his free hand planting on Whirl's middle to hold him down. "So slick and hot."

"Hate you," Whirl panted, hands fisted and tearing at the berth padding to either side of his hips.

"We're doing this _right_ , Whirl," Blurr said, the stern tone surprising Whirl a bit. He blinked up at the Racer. "We don't get many firsts," Blurr said, his tone smooth and soft again. "We're going to do this right. I'm going to blow out your processors, overload you so hard you reset." Unspoken was because the Racer believed Whirl deserved it, needed it, and he wanted to give it, while getting to take it. It was all there in his field, open and too much for Whirl to risk thinking too closely on.

"Fraggin' tease is what you are," Whirl said on another gasp.

Blurr snickered and when he drew out his slowly thrusting finger this time, he added a second to slide back in with it. "You like it," the Racer purred, fingers moving slowly, but oh-so-damn thoroughly in Whirl's valve. They pushed in and dragged out, swept side to side easy arcs, pressing and massaging nodes until Whirl was a keening, gasping, writhing mess on the berth.

Overload flowed up over him this time, a hot wave that washed from his valve, through his spark, and over his face even as it made his feet tingle and thighs shake. Blurr was purring as he withdrew his fingers, and Whirl dragged his optics back open in time to see the Racer suck them clean.

"Blurr…" Whirl said, voice pleading. How many times had he already overloaded, and _still_ he needed _more_? Whirl was no stranger to having multiple valve releases in a given session, but the _need_ was still so strong!

There was a soft click, and Blurr gripped Whirl's legs behind his knees to pull him in closer. Whirl let his legs drape over Blurr's thighs as the Racer knelt there, spike pushing out to jut over Whirl's pelvis.

"Frag me," Whirl begged, plating chiming as he shivered and arched his hips up.

"I'm going to," Blurr said, voice low and hazy, optics that deep, deep cobalt Whirl had learned meant the mech was keyed up and _hungry_ for it. Frag the Racer's control! "Whirl," he called with a chuckle. "It would be easier to get my spike inside you if you held still a moment."

Whirl whined as Blurr's hands moved to his hips, held tight, and pushed down. There was a nudge and slide along Whirl's array, and a high, desperate sound escaped his vocalizer. Then another as the end of Blurr's spike pushed past the rim.

"Oh frag!"

Blurr laughed again, delight and pleasure in the sound. Whirl had never known another mech to _laugh_ so much while interfacing, but Blurr did. Joy and pleasure flowing off him to pour over Whirl's more frenetic EM field. Blurr slid in deeper, purring, optics riveted to where they joined, and Whirl shook harder, purposely clenching his valve down, engaging the new calipers as best he could, greedy for every node to have contact with the Racer's spike.

He was overloading again before Blurr was fully seated, the Racer's low moan underscoring his sharper cries.

"Primus, you feel amazing," Blurr said, rocking his hips in tiny, shallow thrusts just for the sensation, and maybe to help carry Whirl through the release. Probably that too. A tease Blurr was, but he really never had left Whirl wanting.

Whirl keened, beyond words and nearly beyond coherent thought as he reached out to grasp at Blurr. He needed the mech closer, deeper. "Harder," he rasped, managing just that one, pleading word after several attempts.

Blurr leaned forward, stretching out over Whirl and braced upon his elbows. The smaller chest plating was nice for as close as they could get, and Whirl whimpered as he wound his arms around Blurr's middle to hold him in tighter.

"You are so beautiful like this," Blurr whispered, lips brushing Whirl's cheek with the words. "I've always loved watching you unravel." He rolled his hips back, spike gliding almost all the way out, then he plunged back in, making Whirl shout. "That's right, sweetspark. I want you loud. I want my audials ringing." He thrust again, and Whirl drew his knees up high, ankles crossed behind the Racer's aft as he cried out again.

Blurr rocked them with those slow withdraws and hard plunging thrusts, gradually picking up speed. Whirl was loud, maybe not as loud as he had been _before_ , but each thrust forced a sharp cry out of him. Pleasure seared his lines while bliss pulsed and squeezed hard around his spark. Overload hung just out of reach, tantalizing, as heat coiled into a knot in Whirl's belly. Pressure banded around his hips as he lifted to meet Blurr's now driving pace. He clawed after release, knowing he was scraping Blurr's finish but unable to stop himself. His back arched off the berth, body tensing until he couldn't move, only brace against the Racer pounding into him, then ecstasy crashed down on him. It tore a scream from Whirl's throat, white bursts of fire flashing behind his optic shutters. He sobbed- genuinely sobbed in relief as heady, _satisfying_ release dragged him down into velvet black.

"Whirl," Blurr purred, lips on Whirl's cheek.

Whirl moaned, body lax but tingling and hot. Blurr still moving over him, within him, just as promised, though now the Racer was rolling his hips in lazy, grinding little circles. Each inward thrust rocked Blurr's array against Whirl's, sparking charge through that anterior cluster.

"I know you're awake now," the Racer whispered, his vents a bit ragged. "Ready for that last one?"

Blurr was, Whirl knew, but he could only moan in reply, hands lifting to weakly grip the Racer's shoulders.

"You've got one more for me, don't you?" Blurr asked, rocking his hips back to thrust harder. It set Whirl's sensornet alight once more, and he nodded- or tried to.

Blurr's mouth covered Whirl's in a deep, possessive kiss, tongue pushing in to renew his claim as his hips snapped forward. Whirl cried out, then again, then arched with a scream as an overload he wasn't at all prepared for boiled over him.

"Frag yes," Blurr gasped, driving in harder, faster. He tucked his face in Whirl's neck and bit down on the main energon line with a final, almost brutal thrust.

Whirl gasped, optics flying open wide as heat surged over too-tender nodes, and shook through something too strong to be an aftershock. He clung tight to Blurr's shoulders even as the Racer slumped over him with a long, low moan. Blurr weighed almost nothing, and never seemed to worry about draping himself all over other mechs. Whirl trembled, optics blinked up at the ceiling as he held the mech close, legs still tight to Blurr's hips.

Blurr moaned again, brushed a kiss over the bite mark, then pushed himself up to smile down at Whirl. "You ok? Shaking pretty hard there."

"Intense," Whirl said through static.

Blurr grinned and eased his spike out so he could kneel up between Whirl's legs again, hands petting and soothing. "That mean you need a break before we see to this?" 'This' was Whirl's spike, the housing of which Blurr was now circling with one finger. "Because if you need a few minutes, that's fine~"

"Frag you," Whirl growled and gave the Racer a light kick in the aft.

Blurr laughed, bright and joyous, then winked as he scooted back and leaned in. Hot air gusted over Whirl's array, making him shiver.

"I can't wait to ride this," Blurr purred before poking his tongue out to lick right across the spike seal. "But first…" He lifted his helm to give Whirl that wicked little smirk. "Did you know you can get a spike overload _though_ a seal?"

He chuckled as Whirl groaned and fell back against the berth. Whirl had _not_ known that a spike could overload without breaking the seal so it could extend first, but leave it to a hedonist like Blurr to know that obscure fact, as well as how to trigger it.

~ | ~

Whirl woke the following morning, tangled in lithe Racer limbs and the thermal blanket said Racer needed while recharging so his too-efficient systems didn't leave him uncomfortably cold. Whirl was overly warm, his quarter's thermostat set so that he was comfortable without the need of blankets. Some mechs liked them regardless of need, but Whirl wasn't the sort.

Moving carefully, he escaped Blurr and the berth without waking the Racer, and strode right out the door. He could have used his own washracks, but then Blurr might wake, and Whirl just… No, he wasn't ready for that. Especially as before he reached the communal 'racks, he received a ping from Ratchet with an appointment time listed. Whirl had just enough time to scrub up and get to the medbay for it. He had forgotten that communal washracks were _communal_ though, and stepping inside was the harsh reminder he just didn't want to deal with.

"Whirl!" Skids greeted, then his optics went round as he took in Whirl's frame. "Wow. Who was the lucky mech?"

"Shut up," Whirl snapped and stomped over to a showerhead.

"Probably Blurr," Getaway said, and Whirl could hear the smirk. "We should tell First Aid. Bet knowing two Wreckers got it on will send him halfway to overload just from hearing it happened."

Whirl growled and slung a bottle of cleanser at Getaway. He missed, aim absolutely atrocious, and the bottle ended up bouncing off an affronted Skids instead. Soap splashed across his chest before the bottle hit the floor.

"For frag's sake, Whirl," Skids huffed as he rushed after the cleanser before it could all spill. "We're just razzing you."

"Yeah? Well don't." Whirl gave them his back, grabbed another bottle, then scrubbed the slag out of his plating, irritated at how much easier it was to hold the frelling brush with hands.

Skids and Getaway chose wisely and left Whirl alone, finishing their washing in silence before slipping out without another word. Whirl finished up in record time himself, growling as he toweled off just enough not to drip and earn a citation from Magnus, then stomped his way to his appointment with Ratchet.

The medic looked up as Whirl entered the medbay, blinked, arched an optic ridge, then pointed to the berth beside him. "I knew, but frag me," Ratchet said.

"Say I'm cute, doc," Whirl snarled as he hopped up onto the med berth. "I fuckin' dare ya."

Ratchet arched an optic ridge again, gaze leveled on Whirl. "Don't be tetchy with me. Where's the datapad the message mentioned? And how's your hand?"

Whirl ground his teeth together and dug the datapad out. He offered it to Ratchet without a word, then sat there and waited as the medic read through it.

"Complete reframe. Frag me, Whirl. Though I saw you go down. We really thought you were dead until I got the message from Blurr." Ratchet set the datapad aside and reached for a scanner. "Well, let's get this checkup over with."

Whirl let Ratchet plug the lead into his forearm medical access port, and swung his legs a little. "So how long, do ya think?"

"For your frame to settle?" Ratchet asked, then answered without waiting as he nodded over Whirl's healing hand. "Honestly, you're doing great according to this. A few days and you can try flying, I think. Hn. Interfaced, huh?"

"Me and Blurr. Took off the stupid seals they left on the new equipment."

Ratchet looked up at that. "How'd that go?"

"Fine. Blurr's a fragging tease, but he's good at it." Whirl sighed and swung his legs a bit. "But no, I meant how long 'til you can give me my body back?" Ratchet tensed, and that made Whirl's spark squeeze a bit, his lines chilling. "I want my body back, doc."

Ratchet set the scanner aside and rubbed his face with one hand. He looked tired, not that Ratchet ever looked refreshed, but he looked _beat_. "Whirl, this is your body now. I know you didn't want the empurata reversed, and I could respect that before because you have a right as a person to choose that option. But empurata is mutilation. Even if I knew how to do it, I wouldn't be able to. It's a heinous crime."

Whirl shook his helm. "No. You're the best frelling medic in the fragged known universe. It can't be that hard. Just _fix_ me!"

"I am, as you just said, a _medic_." Ratchet's tone was firm and brooked no argument, but Whirl opened his mouth to attempt some debate anyway. The medic shook his helm though. "I can do no harm. I swore it. Battle is one thing, and it all but-" He shook his helm again, a bit harder. "I won't mutilate you, Whirl. I honestly don't know how anyways. Those records were lost, and thank Primus for that, but even if they existed, even if I knew how to do it, I wouldn't. I _can't_. No medic worth his hands can or ever should."

Whirl shook his own helm in denial, flashing icy cold and raging hot in turns.

"I want to see your transformation sequence," Ratchet said, gesturing for Whirl to get off the berth.

Whirl hopped off the berth, but not to transform. He stood, fists clenched, spark throbbing ice. "Bet that freak you got them hands from could do it!"

Ratchet flinched back as though struck, face flickering through more emotions than Whirl cared to identify. He had to stomp down on a flash of guilt himself, and decided that this was only going to get worse if he stayed. Whirl was jabbing the keypad by the door when Ratchet said, "Go talk to Rung, Whirl."

Yeah. Like that could help?

Whirl didn't have comms back yet, so he had to storm around the blasted ship until he found Blurr. The Racer was at the bar, plating shining and a drink in his hand as he laughed and smiled with frelling Skids and Getaway.

"Blurr!" Whirl snapped.

Blurr turned, smile fading in an instant and concern flashing across his face, but then Whirl was there and scooping him up to dump over his shoulder. Whirl could feel the tension in the Racer, but Blurr laughed and waved. "See ya later, mechs!" he called out cheerfully. He didn't struggle until the lift doors closed, and Whirl put him on his feet.

"Whirl-"

Whirl cut him off by slamming him into the lift wall and kissing him hard. He wasn't any good at it, he knew that. He'd never really gotten in any practice _before_. Blurr was soft and quiescent under him though, kissing back, humming into Whirl's mouth. When the lift door opened, Whirl grabbed Blurr's wrist and hauled him out. The Racer was thrown at the berth before their door even beeped shut, and he rolled to his back as Whirl reached it too.

He could escape, Whirl knew. Blurr could fight. Blurr was small and light, but fragging deadly. So while he didn't catch any lust in the Racer's field, he wasn't getting a 'no' either. Whirl shoved Blurr's legs apart, popped his own panel, and growled when Blurr retracted his own.

"No damage," Blurr said, voice soft. Too soft, but Whirl nodded, and despite the need and anger and frelling _hurt_ riding him like furious demon, he gentled his touch and fingered the Racer open until he was slick enough with lubricant that Whirl wouldn't damage him.

Whirl thrust home, greedy, selfish. He took and left Blurr to handle himself, which he did, one hand wrapped lithe fingers around an ornate as all frag spike and stroked it to the fast pace Whirl fragged him with. The other hand gripped Whirl's wrist, bracing and anchoring.

It was over fast and unsatisfying, but Whirl grasped after some consideration through all the fragged up turmoil and slag twisting him round and round, and thrust through his own release to help bring Blurr off too. He eased out as Blurr gave a last moan, gold optics on the silvery-lavender transfluid striping those pretty abdominal vents.

Whirl flopped to the side, vents heaving, spark feeling compressed and heavy. He panted and watched Blurr's face, feeling bad and sorry and hating himself and his life and Ratchet and Skids and Getaway. But not Blurr. Frag, but he didn't deserve a friend like Blurr.

Perfectly clear blue optics met Whirl's as Blurr rolled his helm to face him. "I don't mind being a comfort, but what the frag was that all about?"

Whirl swallowed, then reset his vocalizer. "Saw Ratchet. Won't change me back how I should be."

Blurr frowned. "Won't or can't?" he asked and rolled to his side. He didn't reach out to touch Whirl, which Whirl was grateful for. He wasn't sure he could handle too much kindness.

"Can't," Whirl croaked and reset his blasted vocalizer again, but that didn't help the tightness in his throat. "But he says he wouldn't even if he knew how."

Blurr's lips pressed into a flat line, then he gave a gusty sigh. "Well, that sucks slag."

Whirl let the silence hum between them for a few minutes, then asked, "Want to go back to Cybertron?"

Blurr blinked, genuine surprise flickering through his field. "Why? Do you?"

"No," Whirl replied, helm rocking side to side a bit. "Just don't have to stay just ta be a comfort to me, ya know?"

Blurr snorted and pushed himself up on an elbow to look down at Whirl. "Ever think that maybe I just actually like you?"

Whirl had to fight for it, but he managed a grin. "Don't go gettin' sappy on me, Zip."

Blurr laughed and flopped down to his back. "Ok, truth. Cybertron sucks and I'd rather adventure through space. Least there's room for me to run here. And a decent frag." He flung his hand over, knuckles rapping lightly on Whirl's chest.

Whirl snorted. "Shut up, you know you love me." Then he froze, because while banter was banter, there were some things that shouldn't be said.

Beside Whirl, Blurr was tense for a second, then he burst out laughing. Whirl grinned, then snickered, then laughed too. He pushed up and shoved his fingers in behind the piping at Blurr's side, wiggling them and laughing more as the Racer shrieked. Whirl scrambled up to his knees and got both hands on the job of tickling Blurr into a puddle of wheezing, cackling goo. The hands were apparently good for something, and since he was stuck keeping them, he might as well use them.

At some point in the afternoon, Blurr got a ping from Rodimus informing them both of the colonists' party. Whirl was to be a guest of honor. Blurr tipped his helm questioningly and rolled his hips, valve gliding hot and slick over Whirl's spike.

They skipped the party.

~ | ~

Whirl panted, fingers curled around his spike as he sat propped up at the head of his berth. There were already a few streaks of silver painting his berth padding between his legs, and he was sitting in a sticky puddle of lubricant. He was close again, and gave his wrist a little twist and turn as he pulled down the length once more.

The door slid open with a hiss, and Blurr paused in the doorway. "Want me to come back later?" the Racer asked as Whirl looked up at him. He had stayed after all, even through the launch of the _Lost Light_ that morning. Whirl hadn't realized he had been expecting Blurr to leave until he felt all that relief rush through him when Blurr didn't.

"Nah," Whirl said and gestured Blurr closer with his free hand. "Check this out. Fingers aren't really so bad after all." He pumped his spike harder, gaze on his hand as it moved, then grunted as transfluid spurted out, pleasure shimmering through him with each surge of the overload.

Blurr chuckled as he crossed the room and crawled onto the end of the berth. He gripped Whirl's ankles and pulled, dragging Whirl to his back. "Got any of that for me? Or did the berth take it all?"

Whirl smirked up at the Racer and spread his legs more. "Got plenty of lube."

There was a light click, and then Blurr thrust home, making Whirl's back arch. The Racer was thorough and demanding, putting Whirl's fingers to use with soft orders of where he wanted touched and how. Whirl did his best until the building charge stole his ability to do anything but cling and cry out, then spasm into yet another overload. Blurr moaned through his own release, then laughed as he dragged himself off Whirl.

"Get up. Primus." Blurr dragged at Whirl's hand, fingers laced as he climbed back off the berth. "Washrack. Now."

"What? Don't like the mess?" Whirl teased, but then he looked down at himself and back at the berth, and decided that yes, a shower would be good. Then he should hose off the berth. There would be no recharging on all _that_.

Blurr snickered and pulled, and soon they were both under the spray that was just shy of too hot- just how the Racer liked it. Whirl rolled his optics and grabbed the scrub brush to work on his front as Blurr laughingly pushed him around so he could reach Whirl's back.

"Primus, Whirl."

"You're the one that dragged me down into the mess," Whirl replied.

Blurr laughed a little more and scrubbed Whirl's back, then for a few minutes they cleaned up in silence. "So fingers aren't so bad, huh?" the Racer asked, his tone making Whirl tense up a bit.

"Nah. Pretty good actually," Whirl replied and cycled his vents. "Was thinkin' I might go and tell Rung that too."

Blurr stopped scrubbing to rinse Whirl's back. "Probably should tell Ratchet as well."

Whirl thought about it and his parting shot to the medic, and nodded. "Yeah."

The Racer turned Whirl around, peering up at him through the gathered steam, optics blue and earnest in a way Blurr didn't often get. "I think I'd be pretty screwed up if anyone reframed me without my permission. Even if it was to save me. It's happened twice to you now."

"Yeah," Whirl said with a grin. "And I wasn't terribly sane to start with."

Blurr smiled too, and bounced up on his feet to steal a kiss. "Lips are good too."

"Are they?"

"Mm. And tongues." Blurr stepped back and turned the temperature down to something more tolerable than lava. "Ready to learn to use yours?"

Whirl snickered and sank to his knees. "Got any left in there for me?" he quipped as Blurr let his spike extend.

"Suck it and find out," Blurr challenged, one hand tugging gently, hold easily broken, but Whirl didn't want to pull back. He let the gratitude flicker through his field. Brat Racer was wiser than hardly anyone would credit him being. He also made great little mewling sounds as Whirl learned to suck a spike properly.

~ | ~

"So I figured since Ratchet can't fix me, and the fingers are actually pretty fun- oh! Energon tastes good! Except those Atomic Blasts I created for Swerve. Those are actually pretty awful. Why didn't anyone tell me those were so bad?" Whirl asked.

Rung smiled at him from his seat, datapad and stylus in his hands. "I don't think anyone else was brave enough to try toxic green glowing energon."

Whirl considered that for a moment. "Hn. Yeah, well, I guess I can't blame 'em. I had one sip last night, and when I woke up this morning, Blurr took one look at me and started laughing again. Fragger. Anyways. I figured since I'm pretty much just stuck like this, I better get used to it. It kinda sucks slag though, because I felt like I was just getting a grip on things. Ya know, the whole getting empurata'd in the first place."

"You really had come very far," Rung confirmed, proud little smile curving his mouth.

Whirl nodded. "So now." He looked down at the hands. His hands. "Well, now I'm wondering if I should try the clock thing again, because that wasn't going too bad. I mean they were too fast or too slow or ran the wrong way, but I was working, but now I'm not so sure."

"If you want my advice," Rung began, waiting for Whirl's nod before he continued, "I would suggest trying to build a clock."

"What if I can't?" Whirl asked, fingers curling into fists. "What if I _can_?"

"Well, what would be the very worst thing if you just could not make clocks yet, even with the new hands?"

Whirl blinked at Rung, frowned and tried to think about it. "I…"

"What would you lose that you currently have, or rather, did before the battle?" Rung asked.

"I guess nothing?" Whirl offered, unsure. "I mean, I couldn't build a proper clock with the pincers, but I was kind of getting closer. It'd be like sliding back some."

"If you couldn't get the clock perfect on the first try would you give up?"

"No." Whirl looked back up at Rung with a crooked little half grin. "Probably try again. I was getting close _before_."

Rung smiled back. "Alright, so the worst thing is an imperfect clock and you would just try again. Now," he added, face smoothing out. "What about if you _did_ build a functional clock?"

Whirl winced, his shoulders hunched, and his mind fragging well _flinched_ away from the idea.

"What is it you're feeling, Whirl? Talk me through it."

Whirl hesitated, then whispered, "Hope."

"And hope is dangerous because then what if you do fail, right?" Rung asked, and Whirl nodded. "Well, you certainly don't have to build a clock today, or tomorrow. You can wait until you're ready."

Whirl shivered a bit, anger beginning to heat under his spark. He'd _already_ failed tons in building clocks! It was stupid to-

"Whirl," Rung called, interrupting the downward spiral. He was good like that. "Would you be willing to tell me a bit about Blurr? Has it been a positive experience having a roommate?"

Blinking, Whirl carefully cycled his vents, just like Rung had taught him. "Blurr's pretty great. We got along good as Wreckers too."

"Blurr seems the type to make friends easily."

"Yeah. He's a hot piece and mechs wanna touch him."

"Whirl," Rung chided.

"What? It's true. We started out fraggin' instead of actually being friends," Whirl said. "He was a fun ride. Still is."

"Is that all?"

"Nah." Whirl waved a hand. "Ya know… Well, Blurr never liked the killin'. So sometimes he'd be a bit fragged up after a mission, and I was there. Not like I was tryin' to be nice or something."

Rung's lips twitched into a grin. "Of course."

"Shut up, I wasn't. It just sorta happened. He's good in the berth and snuggly. And he wasn't a coward or nothing!" Whirl snapped jabbing at finger at Rung in warning. "Mech never once flinched when the job needed done. He just didn't like it and needed a bit of comfort after. I never minded bein' that comfort, cuz like I said."

"Nice ride," Rung supplied into Whirl's meaningful pause.

"Yeah." Whirl cycled his vents. "Anyways. He's just returning the favor a bit and getting off Cybertron cuz it sucks slag. I like havin' him around though. He's looked after me while I was tryin' to get my new head on straight." He narrowed his optics as Rung noted something on the datapad. "I don't want a record of what I said about him post-battle. That's a secret ain't no one else knows."

"I didn't write anything about that, Whirl. Vague as you were, it would be inappropriate since Blurr hasn't given permission." Rung folded his hands together over the datapad. "You know I need to give myself little reminders for things to ask after in future sessions."

Whirl stared in suspicion a moment more, then slowly said, "Ok."

Rung smiled wider. "I admire your protectiveness for your friend. I wouldn't betray you or Blurr, or risk undermining such an important connection."

With a nod, Whirl moved on. "So yeah. It's nice with him around. He's good at taking attention too. So when the others get too crazy about how cute I am now, he somehow manages to turn the conversation to other stuff." He rambled on, mentioning the annoyance of being called cute, that Blurr could do it because he always had anyway, plus Whirl totally gets him back by calling him 'Zippy'. The interfacing- he mentioned that too, and how it was pretty cool that the seals didn't hurt to remove, but don't tell Blurr. Glitch's ego was big enough.

Rung let Whirl talk, nodding, following along, and even asking a few questions, but their time was about up. "So, I'd like you to set yourself a reasonable goal. Something you can work toward."

Whirl stared down at his lap, the hands- _his_ hands curled loosely on his thighs. "Maybe just stop hating them?" he suggested, lifting his hands to wiggle the fingers at Rung. "Can start by tying up Blurr so he can't touch me or himself, then self-serve with 'em 'til he cries actual tears and begs me to frag him."

Rung blinked, then chuckled a little. "So long as Blurr consents, I wish you well with the plan. I'll add that to your file as our active goal and see you next time."

"Ok, doc. Thanks." Whirl pushed himself from the chair, tossed Rung a jaunty wave, then went to go find Blurr.

~ | ~

Whirl moaned and whined, wrists tied together and bound to the wall over the berth, aft up and knees spread as Blurr thrust in hard from behind.

Clearly not hard enough though.

"What the frag, Blurr?!" Not 'Zippy' but 'Blurr', so who did Whirl think he was fooling here, Blurr wondered? "You fuck like old mechs fuck! Slow and… and- Stop laughing! It's wrecking your rhythm!"

Blurr laughed even harder, and yes, it wrecked his rhythm and helped dial back his charge, and Whirl would just have to deal with it. He'd had his turn tying Blurr up and making him beg. It was the Racer's turn now, and he'd waited weeks for it, wanting to be sure Whirl was in the right place mentally and emotionally for it.

"Stop that and frag me, damnit! Harder! Faster! Primus, are you a Racer or a… a…"

Blurr snickered again and thrust just hard enough to make Whirl whine. Whirl was being ridiculously loud and demanding for the one supposed to be in the submissive spot this time, but that only made Blurr happier. A comically loud Whirl was a content enough Whirl. Quiet and whimpering and clinging was a Whirl that had made Blurr nervous despite his determination to help.

"I am _never_ letting you frag me again!" Whirl snapped. "This is crazy. I could have gotten myself off five times by now!"

Blurr laughed again and snapped his hips in _hard_. "Sure, but you like this."

"I hate it! I hate you! I hate your stupid fancy spike!" Whirl cut off on a keening wail as Blurr shifted his angle and ground in. The Racer laughed even as he carried Whirl through his overload, then he slowed down to start all over again.

"I hate you," Whirl moaned into the berth.

"No you don't," Blurr said, absolutely sure of that fact, hips rolling in languid, slow thrusts. "And if you want another overload, you're going to tell me just how great I am at this, and how much you like it."

Whirl moaned and whined, keened and swore hatred, and Blurr let him. He knew what he felt, and he had caught hints of something similar mixed in with the gratitude in Whirl's field when they curled up to recharge. But those words and their definitions were nothing either of them were ready for. Blurr was content with sharp cries as his compliments and shuddering overloads to express Whirl's enjoyment. And when it was done, he called Whirl cute, and Whirl called him Zippy, and those unnamed _things_ were there in their fields.


End file.
